Storm at Marshbay by Clara Wimberly Read Free Book Online Page B

for a moment I felt as if we were the only two people in the world. We had formed a kind of pact when he said he and I would make the best of it. Not just the wedding, but our lives together. I hadn’t thought it possible to actually feel happy at this wedding until the soft twinge in my heart told me I was.
    Edna was my matron of honor. She looked sweet and demure in a gown of pink, styled simply like my wedding dress. I had not invited anyone from my past to the wedding. Not that I had many friends. My father had seen to that.     
    Besides, if this was to be my destiny, I meant to make the most of it and I couldn’t think of a better way to do that than by starting my life anew.
    James stood beside his brother. He was quiet and always gave the appearance of a gentle, easygoing person. So different than Ian. I thought how suited he and Edna were to each other.
    When I reached Ian, I put my hand into the crook of his arm. He felt solid and steady and I leaned against him. His arm tightened as if he knew exactly how I felt.
    I hardly remember the ceremony— just the smell of the orchids and roses and the feel of Ian, strong and masculine by my side. When Father Robertson pronounced us man and wife, Ian and I turned to one another. He bent his head to kiss me and I moved against him, wanting his kiss, wanting his arms around me.  My heart was pounding when I stepped back and looked into his surprised eyes.  The air between us was charged with tension. I remember Mrs. Fitzgerald beaming at us when we turned to walk back toward the house. She looked absolutely giddy. Her enthusiasm couldn’t be that she was thrilled by Ian’s choice of a bride since she hardly knew me. And yet she seemed pleased.
    Just as we reached the steps leading up to the foyer, a bright streak of lightning ripped through the air above us, followed immediately by a loud crack of thunder. Ian hurried me up the steps while the others behind us screamed and ran to the shelter of the house. The glass doors to the courtyard were immediately closed as rain began to pour down.
    I glanced toward two maids standing near the stairs, waiting to point the way to the wedding luncheon to the guests. They had their heads together in an animated conversation. When they turned they looked straight at me, their eyes wide with speculation.
    A sudden chill raced down my back and for the first time I felt the odd reality of being at Marshbay for the rest of my life— a place not so warm and welcoming as I once thought. It was almost a sense of foreboding.
    “Are you all right?” Ian asked, looking down at me.
    “Yes, I’m fine.”
    “Lies…lies. Don’t believe the lies.”
    A woman’s voice, whispered and menacing, seemed to come from everywhere. From the storm, from behind us in the courtyard, even from within myself.
    Edna was behind me and I turned to her.
    “Did you say something?” I asked. “Or did you hear anything?”
    “Hear what?” she asked, smiling. “One can hardly hear anything for the storm.”
    “I don’t know…I thought someone said something.”
    “Let’s go in,” she said.
    No one else seemed alarmed or indeed acted as if they’d heard anything. I convinced myself it was only nerves and my imagination.
    In a daze I allowed myself to be led into the dining room. It was beautifully decorated and the food was plentiful and splendidly arranged. Yet for me the scene held a strangely ethereal quality.  There was beauty and celebration in the midst of a terrible storm.
    Only a few moments ago I felt hopeful, even romantic. But now I felt a sudden unreasonable terror. Had I really heard a voice? And if so, why hadn’t anyone else heard it? I was married to a wealthy, handsome man, coming to live in a place I’d once admired. I’d actually be with people I once envied. Yet all I felt was a quiet desperation.
    I wanted to run, to escape this place and everyone’s speculative gaze at us. I wanted to be in the familiar warmth and